


Miracles

by AdorabloodthirstyKitty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Vandalism, i am terrible with titles, not sure if i'll continue this story, street art
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:39:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorabloodthirstyKitty/pseuds/AdorabloodthirstyKitty





	Miracles

A mass of purple blankets stirred slightly as the person inside moved, finally getting out of bed after spending most of the day there. Gamzee slowly pulled himself out of the tangled purple sheets, groggily walking across the room to pull a clean shirt on. He looked at the digital clock, the only source of light in the room. 1:12 am. He rubbed his eye and slipped his shoes on, not even bothering to change out of his favorite pajama pants. He had work to do.  
He sloppily tightened the laces of his worn purple Converse, tying the remaining laces into knots because he didn't have enough light to make a bow and he didn't want anyone to know he was going out. His uncle would probably beat him knowing he'd go out this late, and Kurloz was too overprotective to just let him go. He had to make sure no one knew he was gone if he wanted to do what he was planning on doing.  
He pulled a baggy black hoodie on and grabbed his backpack, making sure he had everything he needed before poking his head out of his room. The hinges whined as he opened the door, and he swore under his breathe at the sudden noise in the quiet house. He stepped out of the room, walking toward his cousin's room. The door was closed, the light off. He put his ear to the door and listened for any noise, but heard nothing. He then went back the other way, looking into his uncle's room. The large mass of blankets was motionless except for the man's breathing, his deep snoring the only noise in the house. He slowly backed into the hallway, creeping down the hall and towards the front door. He stopped to listen once more, opening the door slowly before pulling it closed behind him, pulling out his keys, and locking the door.  
The street was quiet, the night air cold with a slight breeze that bit at his face. He pulled out his bandana, covering his nose and mouth with a large, sinister smile painted onto the black fabric. Tying it around the back of his head and pulling his hood up, he set off out of the quiet neighborhood and toward the city.  
He made his way through the dark streets, weaving through alleys and past dark windows of closed businesses. A couple of people saw him, streetwalkers and drug dealers mostly. The dealers ignored him, knowing that he was in no mood to chat. A couple girls tried to get his attention but he wasn't interested, and they quickly lost interest with him.  
He soon got to the park and headed toward the tunnel. He had never worked in this part of the city, more accustomed to small alleyways between buildings then the large circular space under the bridge. But he knew that more people would see it here then in an alley near a small bar or a card shop. He quickly looked out both sides of the bridge, making sure no one was heading this way. The park was deserted though, and the streets leading to it were quiet and empty. Just the way he liked it. Time to get to work, he thought as he smiled under the bandana, put his backpack down at his feet, and grabbed his supplies.  
He put his small tarp on the floor against the wall he would use, putting a couple of cans at his feet before grabbing one black and one white and starting his work.  
He always started with a white background, liking the emptiness of a blank canvas more than the red brick of the inside of the tunnel. As he finished the white space, he started shaking the black spraycan before putting the white down and starting his drawing. He had a steady hand, making large strokes for the outline of the piece before starting the smaller details, using the colors at his feet to bring the picture to life. He added shading here and there as he finished, stepping back to study the whole picture before going back and adding something, a color here, some shading there, until it was finished. As he studied the picture, he put his hands on his hips, smiling at the finished product. "Miracles", he said quietly, his smile growing at the word that described the picture so well. Miracles.  
He quickly got his stuff together, shoving the cans and tarp into his bag as quickly and quietly as he could. He pulled his hood back up; it must have fallen while he was making the miracle that now graced the inside of the tunnel. He stood, slinging the backpack over his shoulder, and gave his masterpiece one more look before heading back toward the park, a lopsided smile on his face as he headed to a bench right outside the tunnel. He sat, pulling a cigarrette and lighter out before pulling his bandana down so it rested around his neck. He lit, inhaled, and sat back, blowing smoke into the night. He watched the smoke curl and drift toward the clouds, slouching against the back of the bench as he looked at the stars. He was happy the sky was so clear, leaving the stars and full moon visible and bright. He sat there for a while, not really paying attention to anything except the twinkling stars and the big bright moon.  
"Uh, excuse me?" He opened his eyes, pulling his head from where it rested against the back of the bench. How long had he been asleep? That's gonna be motherfuckin sore in the morning, he thought as he stretched his neck before remembering why he had woken up in the first place and turning toward the sound of the voice.  
It was a guy around his age, with smooth olive skin and large brown eyes. He had a dark brown mohawk, brushed back looking proper and adorable. He wore a brown hoodie that looked all kinds of cozy, and black pants with worn brown leather boots. Even with the warm clothes, he shivered as wind blew near him, ruffling his hair and making his face scrunch up in the cutest expression Gamzee had ever had the pleasure of seeing. His smile grew the more he stard at the boy, and soon he was paying more attention to the cute little motherfucker than he had to almost anyone he had come in contact with.  
"What's up motherfucker?" he asked simply, leaning forward slightly so he wouldn't miss a word from this adorable stranger. Even his voice is full of miracles, Gamzee thought as the stranger began to speak again. "Uh, did you do the, uh, picture, in the tunnel? I was just, walking by, and that wasn't there yesterday.. I won't, uh, tell the police, or anything. I just really like it, and I was hoping I could, uh.." His voice seemed to fade as he lost the nerve to say whatever he had wanted to say, his eyes trained on his boots. Gamzee leaned forward a bit more, hoping to hear more, but he couldn't hear the motherfucker. The stranger looked up at him as the silence dragged on.  
"Hoping you could what, motherfucker?" Gamzee asked, holding the boy's gaze and willing him to keep talking. He could listen to that voice all day.  
"Hoping.. hoping I could tell them, how amazing the picture was. It's really great, and I really love it," the stranger finally answered, looking Gamzee in the eye and stuttering less. Gamzee smiled as the boy seemed to lose his uneasiness, and stuck his hand out before answering. "I'm glad you liked my little miracle, man. Name's Gamzee Makara."  
The stranger smiled, looking him in the eye as he shook his hand. "Tavros Nitram. It's really nice to meet you, Gamzee." He sat down next to him on the bench, and Gamzee pulled another cigarrette out of his pack, offering Tavros one, which he declined, before lighting up and taking a drag.  
"So you really like it, man?" Gamzee asked, wanting to hear more of Tavbro's adorable voice. "Yeah, it's really cool," Tavros answered with a smile. "I loved how colorful it was, and it had a lot of detail that most street art doesn't seem to have." He continued praising the picture excitedly, stuttering and pausing less and less as he talked about some of the street art he had seen in different art books and documentaries he had watched. Gamzee smiled as he listened, watching Tavbro's arms move as he talked, the look of appreciation and joy in his eye as he spoke about some of his favorite pieces. Gamzee would agree here and there, knowing a lot of the art Tav was referring to, but for the most part he stayed quiet, listening to Tav talk.  
They sat there for a long time, discussing different street artists and pieces before the sky started getting lighter. Gamzee hadn't even realized how much time he had spent on that bench with Tav, and soon they had to go their seperate ways. Gamzee made sure he got Tavbro's number before he had left, and he told him they'd have to hang sometime soon. He dropped the cigarrette that had gone out as they talked before waving goodbye to Tavros as they headed in opposite directions toward their homes. He looked once more toward the tunnel before pulling his bandana up and heading back to the house for the night.  
As he finally got back to his uncle's house and closed the door behind him, he slouched against the door, sliding down until he sat on the floor. A smile he hadn't realized he had grew at the thought of seeing Tavros again. He stood up, locking the door behind him before heading to his room, dropping his backpack and jacket on the floor before pulling his shoes and bandana off and sliding into bed. Just as he layed down, his phone buzzed on his bedside table with a new text.  
iT WAS REALLY NICE MEETING YOU, gAMZEE. i CAN'T WAIT TO HANG WITH YOU AGAIN }:) - tAVROS  
Gamzee smiled, sent a quick text back and dropped his head onto the pillow before immediately falling asleep.


End file.
